The Little Freezer of Horrors

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One summer day, not too long ago, on an evening similar to the one we are enjoying right now, my little family and I packed up a supper and wandered over to my brothers house to make him dinner.

While there, we staged a lawn intervention and helped him tackle the yard. Yes, that is my 7 year old pushing an old fashioned grass cutter.

My son loved it.

I wonder if he would love it if he had to use it on our lawn weekly? Something to consider….

While the lawn intervention was being staged by Mr Magpie and the nestlings, I proceeded into the house to get some dinner cooking for all the hungry field hands. I am not sure why I opened the freezer…not sure what I was looking for…

But there is one thing I know for sure : I am a changed woman.

I have seen horrors that no cook should have to witness.

Ground beef frozen since 2009.

Dark chocolate velvet ice cream.

There is nothing velvety about this. Nothing.

This, what looks like a cryogenic experiment gone very, very wrong, is my son’s leftover birthday cake.

From November of 2010.

This is what it used to be.

I would like to point out to my brother that it was Han Solo who was frozen in carbonite, not R2D2.

At this point I simply couldn’t handle it anymore.

I had completely forgotten what it was I was searching for, because eating anything from that freezer would be asking to come down with a food borne illness that hasn’t been discovered yet.

However, maybe we can name the new disease after my brother.

How about Wyattdoesntcleanacitis?

Ebolagrowsinmyfridgesios?

The Wyatt Pox?

Haha sorry, that last one. I actually can’t stop laughing. Oh my.

I can do that because I am the older sister. It’s my job to pick on him.

I then opened the door to the fridge to find some salad dressing for the greens I brought with me for dinner.

I found this bottle that was best before March 21, 2009.

I quietly put it back into the proper place.

Shut the door.

Made dinner without opening that Chamber of Horrors even one more time.

And haven’t had a proper nights sleep since.

The End.

Love,

We Shall Never Speak of This Again Magpie